The Push
by Finding Out Why
Summary: Being the hero has taken its toll, and Mario's mental health is at an all time low. Alone and on the brink of defeat, he finds hope in a long-time acquaintance, and begins to gradually heal. (Picture: "Your not alone" by raygirl12 on Deviantart; photo does not belong to me)
1. Session 1 (Part 1)

_**Hello fellow fanfic lovers! This is the second fanfic I've started writing on this account, and even if only one person enjoys this...piece, short story, whatever this ends up becoming, that would be wonderful. It's going to be focusing on mental illness, specifically depression with some instances of anxiety as well. I hold this topic close to my heart and feel that it gets no where near the attention it deserves, so I'm trying to shed some light on it here. Hope you guys like it. **_

_**Super Mario franchise with its associated characters, worlds, etc. belongs to Nintendo. **_

* * *

"It's just hard."

"What's hard?" he asks, his amber eyes boring through me though I refuse to meet his gaze. "Admitting that you have this problem?"

"No," I say, but the word sounds hollow coming out of my mouth. "I mean talking about the problem." As if on instinct, my fingers flex and my hands are in fists. Talking things out is not something I enjoy doing, be it with my brother, a friend, or a stranger. Other strategies have always worked better for me, or so I thought. Merlon clears his throat and I look up. His eyes are focused on my left hand. The skin is stretched and if I keep digging my nails into my palm the stitches on my knuckles are sure to rip. The ones across my middle knuckle have already begun to tear, and a sliver of blood is beginning to collect. I'm tempted to turn my wrist, to watch and feel the red liquid slip across my skin. Dangle. Then fall.

"Ahem," Merlon emphasizes, louder this time, and I relax my hands.

"Sorry," I say, trying my best to look into his eyes as I speak. "It's a—"

"Force of habit," he finishes, handing me a tissue. "Something we'll definitely have to work on. But back to what we were talking about before, how you—"

"How it's hard for me to talk about this," I can finish his sentences, too. "That's not weird though. A lot of people don't like talking about their problems."

"This is true," he responds. "But we're not thinking about other people. We're thinking about you right now, Mario."

About me.

"While you are known to be quite taciturn, I think there are other reasons as to why you're stalling the inevitable."

I blink. "I'm not stalling anything!"

"Of course, you are," for a moment I think I see a smile at the corners of his eyes. "You're on the defensive, as is natural for your fighting spirit." He readjusts himself in his chair before continuing. "You're not used to being so vulnerable."

This is what I didn't want. To be analyzed and deconstructed down to my habits, thoughts, and feelings. And this is only the beginning. Merlon has this way about him where he doesn't even have to have you speak your mind, he just reads you like a book from observation. Sure, his magic plays a role in this but he's also brilliant in his own right, inquisitive. His readings have helped me dozens of times in the past, on adventures all over the Mushroom Kingdom, but this time is different. This time there about me, and I don't want to hear them.

_It's all part of the process, Mario. You just gotta trust me. _

Right.

"Mario." I jump. Merlon tugs at his beard as he asks, "Were you listening?"

I open my mouth to speak but close it again, then shrug my shoulders.

One of the great things about Merlon is that he's incredibly patient. I think it's just his personality but it's one of the reasons he's so approachable. He summarizes for me: "There are times when it is alright to let our guards down."

"I realize that," I admit. "I have no issue confiding in you, Merlon. I know you'll keep this between us."

He leans in. "But?"

"But I don't feel comfortable sharing everything with you right away. That would be too," I reach for the word and take hold, but it doesn't want to slip through my lips. My brows furrow and I want to clench my fists again.

"Painful?" He's so good at that. I release the air trapped in my lungs and stare at him again. "I can only imagine. It wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to relive all of your painful memories at once. That being said," he pauses, as if considering his choice of words, "we will have to get to all of the memories eventually. But we will transition at a pace you feel most comfortable with." This time I'm confident he's smiling under his mustache and bushy beard.

I almost smile back.

"So, where would you like to begin?" he asks, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. "What's on your mind today?"

_You can literally talk about whatever you want. What's most important to YOU, what's bothering YOU at that point in time and they'll listen. And offer some advice. Because they're there to help you. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better you'll be. Trust me._

A sour taste forms in my mouth. "I want to talk about Daisy."

* * *

_**So I have some explaining to do! **_

_**Our main character here is Mario (as I'm sure you've realized) and he's not doing so hot. He's a mess actually, but we'll get more into that later. Out of every Mario character, I've always thought Mr. Video Game himself would be the one to have a mental health issue, for a lot of reasons actually, so here we are. He's trying to talk things out with Merlon in his first therapy session! Yes! Merlon is now a psychologist (just go with me on this alright?). Out of all the things to talk about though, I wonder why Mario wants to talk about Daisy? And what up with those stitches in his hand? Guess you guys will just have to wait and see...**_

**_Notes to avoid confusion: The thoughts in italics are words of wisdom Mario is remembering that a certain someone told him earlier (it'll be pretty obvious who next chapter...I hope). _**

**_Questions, comments, or concerns? Feel free to share!_**

**_Hope to update soon!_**


	2. Session 1 (Memory 1)

**Hey all! Another piece of this story for you! Finally! Sorry it took so long! Big scene here! Not in length but magnitude. Enjoy!**

**(Italics are Mario's thoughts)**

* * *

An icy wind bites at my nose and cheeks at the top of Peach's castle. I stumble over my feet to the edge of the balcony, almost falling over the rail. Somehow, in my drunken state, my hands reach out and stop me. I hold there for a moment, arms outstretched, when a cruel thought pops into my head:

_Funny how reflexes stopped me from falling, when that's the whole purpose of coming up here. _

I stand up straight, hands trembling. It would have been so much simpler that way. An accident. A fall to the ground after a tipsy stroll. There wouldn't be any what ifs, buts, or how comes about what happened. Just a freak incident, a blissful fall to the Underwhere. But now, thanks to reflexes, it was going to be more than that.

I will my arms to remain at my sides as I step onto the railing. Standing tall, the world below is much farther away than I anticipated. I've been on this balcony dozens of times with the princess, but only now does the height seem so daunting.

My instincts kick in, telling me this isn't a good idea. I've heard before about the 'oh no' moment. You make the jump, swallow the pills, and suddenly realize after the fact: 'I don't want to do this.' My gut's telling me to get down from here, that this isn't safe, that I will regret doing this.

But I won't.

I clench my fists and shut my eyes, fighting back tears. It would be better once I hit the ground. I wouldn't just feel dead inside, I would be dead, and away from all of this. The pain that came with waking up each day (or night), the feeling of being trapped in my life, in my role as a hero, the rejection I feel looking in the mirror, the looks I get, the acting, the loneliness, it would all be a distant memory. Maybe I would just forget it all.

The wind picks up, urging me forward, and whispers in my ear. Just one step, and it'll all be over. Jumping makes so much sense to me. I want this, I need it.

_Take a deep breath, and end this. Do it._

I put my right foot forward, and prepare to embrace the feeling of freefall.

"NO DON'T!"

I turn, and see none other than Daisy sprinting towards me. Eyes wild, hair flying every which way, racing to get to me in time. My body dips as my weight shifts and I begin my descent. Arms out, welcoming death. There's no stopping this.

And then, I'm yanked back. Choked by my collar as she pulls on my shirt, and I smack onto the concrete. The wind's knocked out of me. Colors dance in front of my eyes and I feel like I can't breathe.

"Are you insane!?" she screams over me. "What were you thinking?!"

_Why, why? Why are you asking stupid questions? Why are you here? Why did you stop me? Why did you have to ruin it? Why you—_

"Mario? Can you hear me? MARIO!"

I push her off and make a run for it, over the ledge and onto the ground. She grabs my leg before I can jump, pulling me back towards her with more power than I thought she had. Her arms and legs lace around my limb, refusing to let go.

"Get off!" I shout, frustration getting the better of me.

"You don't know what you're doing!"

"I know exactly what I'm doing!" I scream. "Now let go!" But she doesn't, so I start swinging.

They're messy shoves and punches, but with enough force behind them to loosen her grip. My foot slips from her legs, but her hands remain firm. Embedded. I can feel her nails digging into my skin.

I tackle her.

Her head cracks on the hard ground this time, but she isn't fazed. She's breathing almost as hard as I am, and her skin is hot and sweaty. This girl is alive, with adrenaline coursing through her body. She's determined to not let me have this. As I go to move away, she grabs me by the shirt collar. Somehow, I manage to rip her hands off and pin them above her head.

"Just stop, Daisy!"

I freeze. Mid-thought. Mid-breath, mid-blink, everything stops as her knee rams into my crotch, and I taste my balls in the back of my throat.

I feel like bawling.

* * *

**So, short, I know. I'm planning on having the rest of session one and another memory out soon! As in, before the end of the month! **

**I had so many drafts of this. It was hard for me to determine what behaviors would be realistic for Mario (cutting, burning, jumping, etc) based on his personality. Did not originally plan on a suicide attempt, but that's what we ended up with here. The other drafts also felt pretty stiff in terms of dialogue to me. Dialogue isn't one of my strengths to begin with, so I was especially critical of what Mario and Daisy actually say to one another (more so will be addressed in the next memory, since they didn't do much talking here!). Also had so much extra detail about the setting that I realized wasn't necessary, and details about the specifics of Mario's depression that I've decided to go into later into the story.**

**Little side-note: I've never experienced what it's like to get hit in that...sensitive area. I tried to make Mario's reaction realistic. If it isn't: 1) sorry 2) feel free to tell me, I'll edit lol.**

**But let me know what you think about this! More to come soon! Stay safe out there!**

**-Finding**


	3. Session 1 (Part 2)

**Hey everyone! New chapter, hurray! We're back in the present with Merlon and Mario, discussing things. I really worked hard to make the back and forth between the two characters (as therapist and client) realistic. I hope it reads alright. Enjoy!**

* * *

"And then what happened?" Merlon asks, his bright eyes never leaving me while listening to the story.

"Some guards that were on patrol heard our shouting," I paused. It was where I wanted to stop, and although the shaman didn't ask me to continue, I could see it in his eyes, his posture. Focused, leaning forward, forcing me to say more. "After pulling us apart, they wanted to know what happened." I wanted to clench my fists again. "Daisy lied and that's it."

That isn't it, but he lets it go for now, resting his leg on top of his knee. He studies me and everything I said for a moment, lifting his hands from his robes to lace his fingers together. "It's interesting," he finally says. "Based on how you spoke of Daisy and your," he gestures to my tense posture, "reactions when telling your story, clearly you do not like her. Yet so far, from what I gather, she's been nothing but kind to you."

I scoff, "Tackling and kneeing me in the groin is kind?" I thought he was supposed to be on my side?

"While not the preferred method of stopping you," I think I hear him chuckle under his bushy beard and mustache, "she had the best intentions in mind."

"Yes," I pinch my brows together, "saving me when I didn't want to be saved."

"You can't be that upset about it," he says, placing his hands in his lap.

This time I'm the one that laughs, bitterly, "And why not?"

"Because if you were, I don't believe you'd be here right now."

I want to argue his point, but with the facts he knows, it's solid reasoning. I am here, trying to feel better, but it's more complicated than that. I promised Daisy I would give life a shot for a bit longer. I owe her that much. She caused the tussle between us, alerting the guards, but she didn't tell them anything. She lied for me even though I hadn't asked her to, and because of that, my feelings were still under wraps. If things had gone public, and everyone in the kingdom knew about me, I'd be living my worst nightmare.

So, I'm trying, for Daisy, for the time being.

"Ahem," I look at Merlon. "So, Mario, how do you truly feel about Princess Daisy?"

I frown, "Why does that matter?"

"You said you wanted to talk about her," he states, placing both of his feet on the ground.

I had said that. "But not about my feelings towards her. Just what she did, and how it frustrated me." He leans forward, eyes wide. I stifle a sigh before humoring him, "to an extent."

"Yes, of course," Merlon says. "But if it's alright with you, Mario, I think it would be wise to talk more about the princess."

It's strange hearing him refer to Daisy like that. 'The princess.' I never think of her this way, but I also don't think about her a lot. But if Merlon really thinks the conversation would help. "I guess we can talk more about Daisy."

"Good," he says, with a warm smile. "How long have you two known each other?"

I scratch under my cap with my good hand. "I saved her from Tatanga years ago, and ever since then she's been invited to all the Mushroom Kingdom events," I hesitated. "But, I mean—"

We're not friends.

Thinking back, I almost feel bad about it. I've never tried to get to know her. We're rarely on the same team for sporting events, and we always compete in parties. Aside from the standard hellos and 'how's the weather' conversations when the gang gets together, we don't talk. And why not? Peach used to mention how similar our personalities are. If I had put the effort in, we might have been good friends today.

I sigh, "We're not very close."

"You are now," Merlon offers, handing me another tissue. I'm clenching my fists again.

I relax, "What do you mean?"

"Other than myself, she's the only one who knows of your," he chooses his words carefully, "condition?"

The term still bothers me, "Yes."

"Daisy knows more about your feelings than others in your life that you're much closer to." For simplicities sake, I nod. I'm not close with anyone right now. "How do you feel about that?"

The answers obvious: I don't like it. Why would he think otherwise? "It feels bad," I say, and talking about it isn't making things better. But 'bad' is too ambiguous for him. He needs specifics, reasoning.

"I just wish it was Peach, or Luigi," I admit, looking down at my hands. "I wish it was one of them that noticed something was wrong and followed me upstairs. I'd tell them everything and," it sounds cheesy in my head, but I say it anyway, "they would understand."

"And then you would feel better?" Merlon asks.

"Eventually," I say, but I'm not confident in it. I can't even find comfort in my own made-up scenario. Weegie and the princess would never sympathize with me, so why do I trick myself into thinking they could? I get my hopes up only to knock them down again.

"Why don't we think about what supports we do have, and not what we don't? It's much more beneficial for us." Merlon gently explains. "While I understand you wanting to confide in Peach, or your brother, presently, you don't seem comfortable with doing so."

If I was, I would have confessed to them by now.

"For now, Princess Toadstool and Luigi are not at our disposal." I give him a small nod. "But there is Princess Daisy."

"Merlon—"

"Consider this, Mario," he begins, once again leaning forward in his chair. "She's already shown she cares about you, in her own way," he adds, referring to the tussle we had. "She's willing to help. She is the one that encouraged you to come speak with me, correct?"

"Yes, but—"

"You don't like her. Apologies, you do not know her." I don't bother trying to interrupt anymore. "She's practically a stranger to you and knows one of your deepest secrets. While the scenario first appears grim, I see it as a quite beneficial," I fail to see it that way. "She's an outsider, and therefore open to more objectively interpret your feelings. You're free to share your emotions without worry _because_ the two of you do not know one another. No judgement, no bias, in theory." He smiles, but I'm still not convinced. "And if that doesn't persuade you, one friend you can talk to is better than no friends at all."

"She's not my friend," I state.

"But she will be."

* * *

"I do hope this was beneficial for you, Mario," Merlon says, walking with me to the front door. "See you next week and call if you need anything."

Outside, the air is warm and dry. A few small clouds dot the sky but the sun shines, bathing Toad Town in light. A few blocks away, people stroll to and from stores, shopping bags in hand. Kids play at the public park under the watchful eye of their parents. A typical nice day in the Mushroom Kingdom, one that most people would want to spend outside. But I wasn't most people.

Daisy sits on the same bench next to Merlon's house. Her head picks up at the sound of me walking down the front steps, and her feet fall in step with mine as I start walking home.

"So," she says, putting her phone in her bag. "How was it?"

"Fine."

"Did you think it was helpful talking to him?"

I shrug, assuming she'll notice it. I feel her looking at me.

"You're going to see him again then?"

"Yes! I will! I told you I would!" I stop walking and finally look at her. "Why do you have to know everything?"

I expect her to get angry, too, face red and arms crossed. But she just breathes silently and says, "I'm not trying to pry I just, I'm just trying—," she stumbles. "I wanna make sure you're okay."

"I'm not okay," I snap. I'm being a jerk, but I don't care. "If I was okay, I wouldn't be here talking to Merlon about my feelings."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she states.

"It is!"

"No. It isn't. He's trying to help you, Mario. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't want your help!"

"But you need it, remember?"

I clench my fists, hard enough that the knuckles turn white, and my stitches rip. I flinch. Blood fills the now open gashes and overflows onto my skin faster than I anticipate; more and more keeps coming out. "Crap."

I shouldn't stare at it, I shouldn't stare at it, but I always do, and I always get woozy. I smell iodine and colors dance in front of my eyes, as I slowly slip into unconsciousness.

"Mario," her voice sounds distant. "Come on, you gotta work with me here." She's yanking at my free hand, trying to pry it from the tree I'm leaning on. "You should sit down."

"I don't need…your help," I mumble, but slide down the trunk of the tree once she gets my fingers to release.

She sighs, shoving something into my free hand. Cold, wet: water bottle. "Drink this," she says unscrewing the cap. "I'll be right back."

I force my eyes open, "I don't…need—"

"Yes. You don't need my help. You've established that, poorly." I'd glare at her if I could. "Just wait here, please?"

As if I'm going anywhere.

I slowly bring the water to my lips. Icy and crisp, I feel a tingle surge of refreshing cool travel through my body when I swallow. Already I feel a bit better and the colors begin to fade from view. I focus on Daisy as she rushes back, with a wad of paper towels in her hand. She smacks a clump of them on top of my hand and holds them there, tightly, pinching my palm between her thumb and fingers.

"I can do that," I tell her, as I put the bottle down, but she just shoves clean towels into my hand, wet ones.

"It's fine. Just wipe your face for now."

I didn't realize how much I was sweating.

We sit quietly for a few minutes. I want to stand and walk the rest of the way home, figure out new stitches later. But I don't think Daisy would let me try to get up even if I could. I keep drinking water until I realize the container is almost empty and my body feels like a water balloon.

"So, you don't like blood." I look at her. "Good to know."

"I don't not like blood, a lot of it just makes me sick."

"You mean 'pass out'."

I sigh.

"If it makes you feel any better," she says, tossing the empty water bottle and pressing my good hand over the bad one, "bodily fluids gross me out, too."

I raise an eyebrow, "But you're perfectly calm right now."

"Well yeah," she explains, wiping her hands off with a few extra towels before reaching into her bag for some sanitizer. Cherry blossom scent. "It's not my own bodily fluids, so I'm fine." She flicks off the top and squirts some sanitizer into her hand. After it in, she offers me some, but I shake my head. A few drops of alcohol won't make me feel clean. "Feel okay to stand?"

I'm still a bit shaky but my visions back, and I manage to get up on my own without the world spinning. She smiles at me, eyes bright, but I just stare at her. "Why are you being so nice?"

Her face falls, "Why is it so hard for you to just accept me being nice to you?"

The answer comes easy for me, "We don't know each other."

"We should change that," she says, tossing her bag onto her back. "Our relationship can be more than just an agreement you know." So that's how she thinks of it. "Honestly, I'd like it if we got to know each other better. This is strange for me, too, ya know."

She wants to get to know me? It's hard for me to believe her. Why get involved when she doesn't have to? Why deal with me when it's easier to walk away? "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Daisy breathes. "I just think we could both use a friend."

"Really? You could use a friend?"

"Yeah," she says, lips pursed. "I could."

"Why would you need a friend?"

She shrugs, heading towards her car, "Guess you'll have to get to know me better and find out." After unlocking the doors, she throws her bag in the back. "Unless you want to almost faint again, I'd get in and take the free trip to Toadley's clinic."

"I didn't almost faint," I grumble.

"Just like you didn't need my help, right?"

Maybe I did and would, but I wasn't going to admit that, not yet.

* * *

**The ending scene between Mario and Daisy wasn't originally supposed to be that long or include any ripped stitches and first aid, but hey, surprise for me and you. Speaking of stitches, I still have to explain those don't I? We'll get to that! Eventually...**

**Mario and Daisy's distaste for bodily fluids is just something I made up and is in no way canon. **

**So, Mario's pretty stubborn, and cynical, and not himself. All will be explained in future chapters as we dive deeper into what's going on in his head (i.e. Why he feels he can't talk to Luigi or Peach, why he REALLY doesn't want to get close to Daisy, why he feels she wouldn't want to get close to him, etc.).**

**But if anything's confusing or you just want to simply share what you think so far, please feel free to leave a review! I would really appreciate it! **

**Next up will be another memory: the aftermath of the suicide attempt. It won't be very long, but it will explain a few things, specifically why Mario is being compliant and actually going to speak with Merlon like Daisy suggested. That's definitely a question I would have if I was reading.**

**See you soon! Hopefully. **


	4. Session 1 (Memory 2)

**Hey all! So, I wrote this a bit last minute but I'm actually content with how it turned out (for the time being, lol). Plus, I kept to my end of the month deadline! *sheds tears of happiness***

**Anyway, let's jump in..**

* * *

"I know you can hear me," she calls once we're outside of the castle. A few other party-goers have decided to leave early, and guards stand at the front gates but other than that, we're the only ones out here. "Can we just talk?"

I wait until we're out of earshot to respond to her, "Or what? You'll tell everyone what really happened up there?"

I reach for my keys in my pocket and click the alarm button. After a few presses, I hear the horn a few rows away. She grabs my arm as I make my way in between the first line of cars and I turn. She's frowning, "You really think I'd blackmail you?"

No, not really. I don't know. I just want her to leave me alone. But she won't me out of her sight right now.

Her eyes look glassy, or it might just be a trick of the street lamps. "I would never do that." I feel like I should apologize to her. "Can we please just talk about what happened?"

"There's nothing to talk about," I say, but Daisy isn't one to give up so easily. She's stubborn, just like me.

"I'm not leaving you alone until we talk."

"So, after we talk, you'll let me go then?"

"That depends," at least she's honest. "Are you going to try and off yourself again?"

I shush her, harshly. "Be quiet!"

"There's no one around."

"Just," I sigh. I'm not taking any chances. "Not here," then gesture for her to follow.

When I unlock my car, she hops into the passenger seat without a second thought, buckling herself in as soon as she's situated. Once I'm in, too, I twist the key in the ignition and the engine comes to life.

Daisy never stays at the castle when she comes to visit. Maybe she likes the time to herself, or can only handle so much of Peach. Who knows. Tonight, her temporary home is the Toad Town Inn, a lot dingier than I'm sure she's used to.

The inn's within walking distance of the castle, so it doesn't take long to get to. I park facing a row of trees in the back lot. After turning the car off, we sit in silence until the interior lights fade.

She speaks up first: "What were you thinking?"

I stare at her. "I'm thinking I can't deal with this anymore."

"With what?"

Does she really have to ask? "With life."

She's shocked, letting her jaw drop, but I don't understand why. She did just witness me step off of a balcony, how could what I said be that much of a surprise to her?

"What about talking to someone?"

"There's no one to talk to," I say firmly, turning to face forward. The wind blows, plucking flower petals off of the trees to swirl in the air before they fall to the ground. A few of them land on the windshield before being whisked away again. I wish I could fly away with them.

"There's me," she states, bringing me back.

I scoff, "No. There isn't. I don't know you."

"Why does that matter?" She has to be kidding, but her expression is the most serious I've ever seen her wear.

"So, let me get this straight," she says when I don't respond. "You feel utterly alone right now, to the point where you think you can't talk to anyone about being depressed."

"I'm not—"

"So, your plan," she interrupts, an edge building in her tone. "Was to plummet to the depths of the Underwhere so you could be alone indefinitely," she shakes her head. "How is that a good idea?"

"It's my idea."

"Well I'm telling you it's a bad one."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," I growl, glaring at her now. "Just like I didn't ask you to yank me back over the railing. I was fine. I am fine."

"You're not fine, you're suicidal."

"Don't say it like that."

"Oh, you mean don't tell the truth?"

"That's not the truth!" I snap.

"Mario, you tried to jump to your death just an hour ago. That's literally the definition of the word." she states. "You're depressed, there's nothing wrong with admitting that."

"Yes! There is something wrong with it!"

"Why?"

"Because if I do that would be admitting I need help and I don't!" I shout, pressure building behind my eyes. "I had it under control but them you came and messed everything up! I wouldn't be here explaining myself to you and feeling shitty if you just let me jump!" My breath hitches. Tears pool in my eyes and I blink to let them spill. I don't care anymore. If she feels bad, she should. "You should've just let me fall."

This is pathetic. I'm pathetic, breaking down in front of her. What's crying going to solve right now? What is arguing with her going to accomplish? And why is she even wasting her time with me? Does she honestly think anything she says will stop me from trying again? Jumping off a building isn't the only way to die. I'll go home and chug a gallon of bleach, or swerve into oncoming traffic on the ride home. She's just delaying the inevitable here. She must realize that. She has to.

"I'm sorry you feel the way you do," Daisy says. I can't look at her right now. "But I'm not apologizing for saving you."

I say nothing.

"I get that it would be hard for you of all people to be the one asking for help. You're not used to that, but it's nothing to be ashamed of."

I still don't answer, until she finally asks after a few moments of silence: "Did you really think killing yourself was the only way to solve this?"

I swallow, failing to get rid of the lump in my throat. "I just don't want to feel awful anymore."

"I wouldn't either," she agrees, voice soft. "But there are better ways to deal with this."

"How?" I ask, barely above a whisper.

"I mean, talking to someone."

"I already told you—"

"I know. You don't want to talk to me and that wasn't what I was even suggesting," she says, talking with her hands. "How about confiding in someone who's qualified to help you with—" She pauses, "this sort of thing?"

"And who would that be?" I ask, wiping my face with my sleeve.

She thinks for a few moments, bringing a finger to her lips. "What about Merlon?"

_Merlon?_

"He's old, and wise," she says, tallying her points on her fingers. "And he's easy to talk to, and he can keep a secret." I stare at her. "Just because Merlon and I would know you're getting help doesn't mean anyone else has to, right?" I don't want to tell her I'm not convinced. "Right?"

It's hard for me to trust her. I can't wrap my head around the fact that she cares this much about what happens to me. How can she?

"I know we're not the best of friends," she says, as if she's read my mind. "But I care about you. And I do mean that." She moves closer, reaching out, like she's going to grab my hand, then thinks better of it. "And as someone who cares, I think it would be a good idea for you to speak with Merlon."

I glance at my keys still in the ignition. It won't help. I know it won't help. No matter how much wisdom the shaman has to share, talking isn't going to fix this. I can't be fixed.

"Give me two months," she blurts out. "Two months for you to try my way of dealing with this. And if you still feel bad after that," she hesitates, and her face scrunches for a moment. The words are in her mouth, but she doesn't want to say them. "I'll help you stage another scene."

My eyebrows raise. She doesn't mean—

"That's what you were doing, right? With the drinking and taking a walk up to the balcony?"

Was it that obvious to her? "Yes."

"We could do something like that. Make it seem like a freak incident. Then, after it's over, I'd spread a story. Make everyone believe that it was really just an accident."

Her eyes are bright and wet; she's on the verge of tears. But her presence is strong, fierce. In this moment, I see the ruler in her. She's determined to convince me she can do this, that she can help me. In fact, she's betting on it.

"We could also come up with a more," she stops again, forcing the words out, "comfortable way for you to meet your end."

I still can't believe I'm hearing this. "You wouldn't promise me that."

"I would promise," she affirms, wiping under her eye so her make-up doesn't smear. "But you have to promise me, too."

My turn to ask stupid questions: "Promise what?" I have to hear her say it.

"Promise not to kill yourself before then."

I lock eyes with her, cerulean staring into icy blue. There's a lot of tension in this small space between us. Only now do I realize how close we are; she really wouldn't have to reach that far to grab my hand. I wonder if she reads all the pain written on my face, if she realizes just what she's getting herself into.

I frown, "Are you always so blunt?"

She offers a small smile, "Yeah. You get used to it."

"I guess I'm going to have to."

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**And Session One is finally complete! Now to get into the good stuff. **

**I haven't been giving my other fanfics the love they deserve recently, so I think it's only fair I work on them for awhile, or maybe write another short story. But I'll be back, no worries!**

**If you have some time, feedback is super appreciated! Please let me know what you think, or if you have any questions I'd be happy to clear something up for you!**

**Thanks for reading!**

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**New: REVIEW RESPONSES! :D**

**StarlitDuck - I cannot thank you enough for reviewing all of my chapters so far! It really means a lot! I'm glad you're enjoying the emotions and character interactions so much. Dialogue has never been my strong suit but discussing this topic seems to flow easy for me. Might be because I have some past experience with it..**

**Yes! Mario and Daisy coming together! The scenario I've put them in really works well with the relationship Nintendo has established for them (if we can even call it that). Definitely makes the story more realistic, which is what I strive for. **

**Speaking of Peach, we'll be talking about her in one of the coming sessions! She's a big part of Mario's life after all. **

**Dolfijn5 - Yes! I will be updating! This story is pretty much all planned out in my head, it's just a matter of me finding the time to piece it together for all of you. Also, I've stumbled across a few of your Mario fanfics in the past; we both seem to see Mario as someone who could have mental health issues. Great minds think alike I suppose ;)**

**Bayoboo - Lol yes, right in the groceries. Pretty cheap way for Daisy to win the struggle, I admit it. But in that particular situation? Knees to the groin are a-okay in my book.**

**WhyNoSchut - Thanks for coming aboard! As much as I enjoy the world of the Mushroom Kingdom and the people in it, there's so much to be expanded upon! That's one of the great things about Nintendo leaving so many things in this universe (in-depth character personalities for instance) up to interpretation for us. We're free to write to our hearts content and fill in the blanks with whatever we please. So if I believe Mario could be cynical and have mental health issues, he can.**

**I wish Mario and Daisy would interact more often. Their personalities are so similar, it just makes sense for them to spend time together.**

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**Until next time, see you!**


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